The Damaged Bride

Chapter 34

Bridgett screamed in agony as the wagon hit another bump.

"Shut up stupid girl," Douglas yelled over the seat. "It doesn't hurt that badly."

Unable to answer, Bridgette only screamed again, every jolt sending pain through her body.

"If you scream once more," her grandfather said, leaning over so she could see his face. "I will gag you. Now shut up!!"

Bridgette fought down panic as she felt a rush of warm fluid run down her legs. The pain was so steady and constant it was almost impossible to think clearly. Random images flashed through her mind making the world seem askew. She saw her mother as she lay dying, her grandfather beating the butcher's boy, Marcus tall and strong reaching for her. She reached out for him, only to have her vision clear to show Hammish lifting her from the now still cart.

As she was half dragged, half carried towards the door, Bridgett's legs buckled and she fell to the ground.

"Get up you lazy whore," Douglas said, moving towards her. "I have no time for your games."

Barely conscious, Bridgette thought she heard the pounding of horse's hooves getting louder and louder, but it just as easily have been her own heart thudding in her ears. The pain began to build again, doubling on itself, ripping her insides to shreds.

~~~~~~

Reigning in, Marcus slid off his horse mere paces from Douglas, the men who'd caught up with him doing the same.

"Give my wife back!!" he demanded, pointing his rifle at the old man.

Douglas looked down at the prone figure of his granddaughter, disgust in his eyes.

"As soon as she has he bairn, you can have her back!" he replied, his face twisting into a sneer. "She is no use to me until you put more seed in her belly. We have a contract for at least two, remember?! Anyway, you have that slut, what's her name? Erica? She'll do until Bridgette is ready to be bedded again, if she survives that is."

"You're crazy," Marcus said, realizing for the first time that Douglas was not only cruel, but completely stark-raving mad. "She's my wife! That is my child and I will see you in hell before I let you get your hands on either of them!"

"You don't have it in you," Douglas said, reaching down to grab Bridgette's arm. "You're weak! Just like your father! Ha!"

"I am nothing like my father!" Marcus said, pulling the trigger, striking the older man squarely in the chest.

For a moment, it seemed as if Douglas did't know he'd been struck. Slowly he looked down as his life's blood pumped out of him one beat at a time.

Little by little he sunk to his knees, finally falling face first to the ground. Marcus's men raised their guns and trained them on the rest of O'Flagnery's men who were milling about.

Putting their hands in the air, in an unmistakable sign of surrender they all backed away from Bridgette before running for the safety of the Hall.

Running to her side, Marcus saw the pain etched on Bridgette's face in the dim light of the torches.

"Bridgette," he yelled, shaking her roughly, trying to wake her. "Open your eyes."

Slowly they fluttered open, her eyes dark with pain and fear.

"Marcus," she said, her voice barely audible. "Marcus, I'm sorry. I tried..."

The rest of her words cut off as she screamed in agony before going limp in his arms.

Lifting her gently, he and his men carried her to the abandoned wagon.

"Hurry," he called to the man who jumped up behind the reigns.

Marcus held her close as they began to roll back towards home, praying with every bump that he wasn't hurting her more.

Five minutes later, the wagon rolled to a halt as they met the rest of his men riding towards him, Moira and Christine riding double.

"Help her," he begged of Moira as the older woman crawled into the back of the wagon.

She rolled up her sleeves and lifted Bridgette's gown while Christine held a bottle of smelling salts under her nose.

Bridgette woke suddenly, crying out once more.

"Bridgett dear," Moira called, "I need you to push for me. This bairn is ready to be born, but he needs your help to do it."

"I can't," Bridgett sobbed exhausted.

"You have to," Marcus urged. "Our babe will die without you. I will die without you."

Mustering the last of her inner fortitude, Bridgette sat up with Marcus' help and pushed as hard as she could, screaming with the effort. After what seemed like forever, Moira emerged with a small, mewling blood covered bundle.

Handing it to Christine, she looked down and shrieked in surprise. Shouting for more swaddling, her hands delved back under Bridgette's gown.

"One more push my dear," Moira urged, "there's another one coming."

"I can't," Bridgette sobbed, her whole body shaking with exhaustion.

"Just one more," Marcus urged gripping her under the arms to keep her upright.

With every ounce of life left in her, Bridgette managed one final, air rending scream and pushed, Moira emerged with another bundle. Bridgette weakly reached up and touched each baby's hand before her eyes rolling back, her whole body going limp.

"Bridgett!" Marcus cried, burying his face in her hair.